Desert Storm
by Lost-Remembrance
Summary: After a plane crash in the desert, five Gundamless pilots find themselves in a sticky situation with OZ tailing after them... For ArtGirlChan150
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I thought it only appropriate to dedicate, as well as make, this story to one of my betas and readers since way back when. Here's to ya, ArtGirl-Chan150! You've been so supportive and wonderful (specially when coming to Blaue Augen) for most of my stories! Here's my way of saying thank you!

/hugs/

Love, Red Tail

Rating: PG-13 or T

Warnings: Uh… violence, gore, and battle scenes. Language as well.

Pairings: none?

Dedication: **ArtGirl-Chan150 (A-Chan!) **Love ya!

Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters. References can probably be made to 'The Flight of the Phoenix' which isn't mine either.

**_Desert Storm_**  
By: Lost-Remembrance  
For: ArtGirl-Chan150

Chapter One (Introduction):

"May day! May day!" Static was the only thing that reached Duo Maxwell's ears as he slammed the radio back into it's place. His violet-blue eyes were flashing dangerously as he gripped the wheel of the carrier they had "borrowed".

Sand whipped at the windshield, slashing at it and leaving scraped on the thick glass like those of a hawk's talons.

A grunt brought Duo out of his worry and he glanced to his side. Heero Yuy, pilot of the Wing Gundam and partner to Duo Maxwell who was the pilot of Deathscythe, gripped the extra wheel tightly, trying to hold the jerking craft steady.

"I'm gonna try and bring it higher!" Duo yelled over the noise. Stuff went flying around in the cockpit and the cabin behind as the turbulence increased.

Duo swore he heard Quatre squeak as the plane hit an air pocket. The chestnut-haired man's stomache lurched as the sounds around them momentarily stopped.

Then, as if an eternity later, the plane was back into the raging storm. Panting as he gripped the wheel with wide eyes, he muttered under his breath, "I'll never get used to that."

Heero didn't reply, only pulled the wheel closer to him. Duo mimicked him as they tried to bring the plane higher.

"Try calling again." Duo looked at Heero for a moment and bit his lip before nodding.

Letting go of the wheel reluctantly, Duo grabbed the radio with as much speed as he could to help Heero steady the plane.

Clicking on the switch, silence reached his ears before he heard static. Then, a loud crash came from above the plane and Duo glanced out of the side window to see some metal go flying.

His face went pale. The wind not only tore through the radio equipment, but it also tore through the wing. "Uh…" he panted, turning to face Heero with a wide-eyed expression that made Heero have a pitting feeling in his stomach.

"What is it!" Heero snapped, the jerking of the plane reminding him to keep his mind to the more important task.

Suddenly, the sounds of metal ripping through metal caught them all by surprise.

The blade from the plane of the wrecked wheel had been flung loose and slashed through the side.

"Hold on!" Heero shouted over the noise and sparks that bit into their skin. Duo flinched and tried to grab the wheel. Heero shoved his partner's head down into an emergency landing position.

Gasping, Duo grabbed the intercom and shouted into it, "Get down!" So the other three pilots in the back wouldn't get to injured in the make-shift landing they were planning.

"I'm gonna try and make a belly landing!" The plane jolted and lurched.

The meter hit zero.

Sand scrapping against the belly, or the top of the plane reached Duo's ears. His eyes were shut tight painfully to block out the noise and sounds.

Pain erupted in his shoulders as he was thrown around like a rag doll in his safety harness. Glass shattered and spilled over him, falling into his hair and coming at him like bullets. Cuts lined his face, the shallow wounds leaking crimson tears down his face in thin rivulets.

Then the noise stopped. The jerks halted and Duo wondered, for a fleeting instant, if he had died.

Sand pooled around his feet. Heavy breathing forced him to open his eyes, and when he did he instantly regretted it. His eyes flashed with worry at the bloodied, limp figure beside him. Tears stung, making him wonder if Heero had tried to steady the plane until the last second.

Whispering his name as he reached a trembling hand forward to try and help his injured buddy, he choked out, "Heero."

TBC

Author's note: Short, and for that I'm sorry to everyone reading this. ArtGirl (your nickname is now A-Chan!) I hope you like the first chapter of this story!

/hugs/

Love, Red Tail


	2. Chapter 2

**_Desert Storm_**  
By: Lost-Remembrance  
For: ArtGirl-Chan150

Chapter Two:

Duo was frantic.

He had tried to unclasp his safety harness, however the blasted clasp was jammed. Growling, he wondered why fate seemed to hate him so. First the self-destruct button that never seemed to work and now the clasp. He looked down and saw that the crash had twisted in to an odd angle. Closing his eyes, he sighed. He was left in silence, hanging him upside down. Worry filled him—here he was, trapped here with his best friend and partner in crime beside him, barely breathing and severely injured. It wasn't one of the best situations he would have liked to be in.

The door behind him creaked opened, letting in glimmers of light through the hazy darkness. Dust had filled the air, mingling with sand when the old equipment had been jostled. There was a slim shadow—indicating it wasn't a buff and idiotic OZ soldier. Sounds of shuffling and shifting sand scratching on the floor muffled the howling screams of the wind outside for a while. The person entering the cabin let out a muffled cough from the thick dust saturating the air. "Duo! Heero?" The soft but determined voice called, Duo knew from the voice it was Quatre, as he pushed his way over the strewn metal scraps and equipment that smashed during the flight. It was like a metal crypt.

Even though his throat was dry and raspy, but that didn't hinder Duo one bit from his new mission—to get help. "Quat--!" Duo's voice halted as a cough racked his body. He took deep breaths and tried to calm himself, refusing to have a panic attack. Quatre's face appeared out of the semi-darkness, nearly scaring Duo—the face that Quatre had, however, made Duo give the other pilot a weak smile. Aquamarine eyes showed worry, fingers already reaching for the twisted metal clasp. Duo relaxed against the harness, letting the blonde work on getting the damn device fixed so he'd be free.

"Duo," Duo raised his head to acknowledge that he was listening, "what happened!" The blonde questioned, yanking the disfigured clasp off of Duo. Once free, Duo stumbled to the ground, swayed for a moment, and then regained his composition.

"The plane crashed." Quatre opened his mouth, about to retort to the statement, before he stopped. Duo turned around, eyes on Heero. He didn't finish explaining what happened. Quatre remained quiet, mouth glued shut. It was obvious, due to the blonde's lack of words and movement, that he had now noticed Heero's limp and stilled body.

A gust of wind blew, causing tiny sand particles to sweep into the cabin through the smashed windows. Then, a wave of sand flew in, leaking like liquid through all the cracks. The metal groaned at the sand continued its assault, scratching and striking the surface of the downed plane.

Duo reached forward and, with nimble fingers, worked with a concentrated mask over his face to get his partner free. Once done, his fingers ached from the prying of metal—sometimes rubbing the pads of his fingers raw--and quickly pulled Heero from the seat, gently bringing him to his chest. He made sure he was careful of his precious and injured cargo. He looked down at the innocent look on Heero's face, sighed heavily, and winced when he saw sand sticking to the blood matting Heero's marred and injured body. "That's gonna be hell to get out." He mumbled under his breath. He already knew he had a ton of sand in his hair and knew it was going to take forever to get out.

"Duo?" Quatre said, speaking in a small and worried voice. More sand poured into the cabin, making Duo realize that it was already up past their ankles and almost halfway to their calves.

"We have to get out of here, Quat!" Duo shouted, as more sand continued to pour in through the windshield. The cabin was offering no protection from the obviously still raging storm from outside. The plane rocked for a little bit, as if to prove his point.

"The back isn't damaged at all!" Quatre turned to leave, heading for the door that lead to the cargo area, "Trowa and Wufei are waiting for us back there!" The smaller blonde motioned for Duo to follow, pushing the door open and grabbing Duo as quickly as he could to pull the two pilots of the aircraft from the cockpit. Sand leaked out from the doorway, but stopped when Quatre slid the door closed and locked it.

The lights in the back flickered on and off, the energy still working in the back of the plane at least.

"Duo?" Wufei looked up when he heard Trowa speak, looking at the arrival of Duo and the very injured Heero.

Wufei's coal eyes narrowed, "What happened?" he couldn't help but question.

"Plane went out of control. Heero tried to land it," biting his lower lip, he looked down at the unconscious pilot and sighed, "he waited until the last moment to duck." He laughed coldly now, in self-regret and loathing for letting Heero put himself in danger like that over himself. "Hell, he probably didn't even have time to duck, knowing him…"

"We'd better get him cleaned up at best as he could." The plane rocked some more with turbulence.

"Is there anywhere safe to put him where we can check him over and patch him up?"

"There isn't much room," Trowa said, gesturing around the cluttered and strewn about place they were stuck in until the storm blew away.

"Our best bet is right here." Wufei replied as he cleared away a space on the floor under the least flickering light. Duo nodded and kneeled, gently easing his precious cargo onto the ground as painlessly as he could for Heero.

"He looks like he's in bad shape." Quatre remained silent, blue-green eyes staring at Heero with sorrow. It was obvious that he was worried, and probably putting at least some blame upon himself for this situation.

Duo sighed, looking at the bruise already forming on Trowa's cheek and the black eye Wufei had. He also saw a smeared line of blood, as if Wufei had hurried to wipe it away, trailing from the other pilot's hairline. "You don't look too good yourself."

Wufei grunted and ignored the statement. Duo assumed as much—he'd probably never even admit if he were in pain. Quatre took a small, almost hidden glance towards Trowa. There was a remorseful flash in his eyes before it fleeted away as he turned back to Heero.

"It was a rough landing." Trowa supplied quietly. Duo raised an eyebrow—of all the people to respond to his question, he assumed that silence would be the answer or Quatre would respond.

Wufei eased Heero's stained tank top off of his chest with care. When the ruined fabric was removed, each of the pilots stared at the brunette's bloodied torso as a heavy silence fell upon the group. It was worse than they thought...

Duo bowed his head, throat clenching. There were no words that any of them would—could say in this kind of situation.

Hands shaking, Duo reached forward to grab the tank top stained with blood, fresh and dried, and ripped off clean pieces. He dabbed them gently across Heero's torn and bleeding skin with care, ignoring the prickling sting in his eyes.

Boys didn't cry…

TBC

Author's note: Another chapter! I hope that everyone likes! XD Hey Arty-chan, did you get my last email? I don't know if it went through or not… sometimes your email gets blocked up or something and it sends it but doesn't tell me if it goes through or not. Send me an email or something! I hope you like this story! If you want a certain pairing for it like 1xR or 1x2 or 2x1 or something, give me a hoot in the email and I'll make it that type for you!

Okay, one—I'm not gonna kill Heero. If I did… A-chan would probably kill me XD and that wouldn't be nice since this story id dedicated to her and all… why make something like that?

Two—well, there is no two. Other than thank yous to everyone who has reviewed for this story! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

Thank you to ebokku who pointed out some of the stupid mistakes I've made in this chapter. I've revised it at much as I can and changed some things. Sorry for the stupid mistakes in some areas everyone.

Hugs are given!

This chapter was posted upon request by TJ (sorry for updating so late--things have been rather hectic for me lately)

Love, Red Tail


	3. Chapter 3

**_Desert Storm  
_**By: Lost-Remembrance (Red Tail)  
Written for: ArtGirl-Chan XD Hope you like it so far!

**Chapter Three**:

"Commander," the subordinate saluted the superior officer, waiting for the nod to release the salute and simply stand at attention. By his side was a clipboard.

After the curt nod was given to the man who interrupted his time, he questioned in a gruff tone, "Yes, Mavis?" The Commander of Squad 233 was very displeased—as was obvious by the look on his face. He had taken a few hours off to catch up on some sleep he had been lacking from the constant alert for the Gundam scum.

"Sir," Mavis began, "There's been an incident."

Commander Adams jerked himself up from the bed, sleep gone from his eyes. He stared at the lesser soldier with a stern face. His lips were drawn in a grim line and his eyebrows furrowed deeply as he overlook all possibilities of what could have happened in the hour he had already taken off. Too many came up.

He shook his head and simply, rather bluntly, asked, "What happened?" there was a pause, as if he was thinking about sighing and thought better of it. After all, it wouldn't hold as much of a impression to the young intelligence soldier. He was the cold, grim, and stern commander—not to be thought of as a man who was too tired of fighting his battles against the lowly colonist dirt.

"There was a plane," the clipboard from Mavis' side was raised, now being overlooked by the young man to say the information they had gathered, "It appears to have hit a sand storm in the Gobi Desert that our systems picked up."

"The Gobi?" once again, the man frowned, only deeper this time. "Our base is over three hundred miles from there…" he contemplated for a moment, a look of deep thought imprinted on his face as well as in his dark hazel eyes. "Lt. Noin and Commander Zechs are near that area, am I right?"

Mavis nodded, checking his board of statistics once more, "Yes, Commander, they are. Within one hundred miles. However, sir, wouldn't it be more simple if we were to dispatch some mobile suits and—"

"No." Mavis stopped, closing his mouth as the Commander stopped his idea. "Lt. Noin and Zechs will handle this problem. We are a intelligence facility—there are too few mobile suits here."

"But sir," Mavis argued once more, "Only a few mobile suits are needed. Davy and Burnett can operate—"

Commander Adams stood up, narrowing his eyes at the subordinate. "Never question my orders again," he growled lowly, "There is a possibility that the downed plane may hold the Gundam rubbish that dare to stand up to OZ and the Earth."

"Yes, Commander." Mavis slouched his shoulders forward, trying to look small under the heated glare being sent to him by his taller and more experienced officer.

"If there are Gundam pilots out there, I want at least skilled pilots to be able to stand up to them. The base Lt. Noin and Marquise are at will have plenty of fighters and suits—as well as themselves."

Mavis once more whispered, "Understood, sir."

"Go and contact them immediately." He turned, seeing that Mavis was still standing there like a shell-shocked puppy, "That's an order."

Mavis scurried off.

-----

The sun was beating down on Duo Maxwell, who happened to be in all black clothing. He panted, wiping the sweat from his brow. His bangs were already sticking to his forehead and his braid—he sighed heavily—he knew that it had sand, sweat, and god knows what else tangled into his usually clean hair.

He trudged outside into the sweltering heat and couldn't help but feel the major temperature change from inside the strangely cool piece of metal they were stuck in and outside. After the storm died down, Duo was "volunteered" by Wufei pushing him outside to check their bearings. Perhaps they landed near a nomad village or some traveling by?

He squinted, the sun's heat radiating from the sand in visible rays. He shook his head, regretting it when his damp braid smacked against his body. He twitched, not enjoying the feeling one bit. There was no civilization as far as the eye could see—and that was a lot since there wasn't a tree or blade of grass for miles. All you saw was sand, dunes of sand, and more sand.

More that happily, he high-tailed it out of the sun and back into their makeshift shelter. He lifted the cargo net that had broken apart during their crash, entering into where the others already were. He gave them a weak smile when they all looked at him. The look in his eyes was enough to tell them that there wasn't any hope.

They all looked down at Heero, covered in whatever makeshift bandages they could use from their clothing, namely Quatre's outer vest and whatever tatters they could save from his tank top. It was all up to the pilots now—they were truly on their own.

He snorted. Maybe there was some use to the training drilled into them. This was, after all, a rather unlikely situation. Of course he had somewhat expected the pilots and himself to survive the crash one way or another. They were the feared Gundam pilots.

Closing his eyes, he cut of the image of the injured Heero and thoughts that came with it. One thought managed to slip though his barriers and defenses, 'What if all of us don't survive?' For some reason, if the one pilot to not make it, he had a pitting feeling in his stomach that it would be Heero. He shivered despite the fact that he was in a burning hot wasteland, surrounded by sand and the sun for miles and miles.

Duo cleared away some more of the now useless equipment out of the way. "Maybe we can use some of this stuff?" he wondered. He pulled open a compartment, seeing some standard rations of water and food. He picked up a parachute that was nearby and flipped it over.

"What could be use with a parachute?" Quatre questioned quietly, closing the small medical box they had found softly. They used what they needed, hoping to draw out the amount of medicines they had for a longer period of time. It was in their training to ration things, but now they were in an instance where it was necessary.

Duo looked at the parachute, thinking before his eyes lit up, "What about a canopy?" Quatre looked up at Duo, a small spark of hope in his eyes as he nodded slowly before giving a small smile.

"You're right, Maxwell," Wufei commented and crossed his arms as he did so. "For once," he added (Duo wondered if he was trying to enlighten the mood), "You use that thick head of yours. Who would have known you had a brain."

"Yeah, well," Duo grinned cockily, "More-so than yours Wuffers! You see if I figured out this simple id—"

Heero mumbled a soft groan, interrupting Duo from his taunt. All eyes turned to the now frowning pilot, who's hand clenched together at his side. Breaths seemed to catch without thought as they paused, waiting for more response. Hopefully even for Heero to wake up. All they got, however, was a mumbled word or two and the clenched fist to fall into a relaxed position. Heero remained still except for his breathing, which looked less labored than it had a couple hours before hand.

"How long has it been?" Duo questioned, with lack of better things to do.

Trowa looked up from Heero, turning to look at Duo with his piercing green eyes. There was a stretch of silence for a moment, making Duo wonder if anybody was going to answer. Then, Trowa opened his mouth and responded, "About three hours since we've crashed."

Duo sat down into one of the nearby chairs and fingered his temples. He did want to toy with his braid or the split ends—he certainly didn't want to be reminded of how dirty his hair was, slick with sweat and probably coated with sand. The silky feeling of his hair soothed him, one might say. Gritty sand in his beautiful hair was not calming in any way. He shuddered at the thought of having to cut off his hair.

Duo then got up, walking over to where Quatre was, still on the floor next to Trowa, where both were watching over Heero. He stared at the face of the 'perfect soldier' and saw someone that wasn't the person that he saw everyday. He saw a boy—innocent and pure, sleeping without a care. Sleeping like the dead. He ignored the chill making its way down his spine and sat on his knees, still gazing. He never broke eye contact though, even if Heero wasn't looking at him since he was still dead to the world.

Gently, his fingers brushed over Heero's bangs. He swept them from Heero's face, his hand briefly touching Heero's cool and soft skin. He paused in his motion, ignoring the fact that Quatre and Trowa were watching him and his movements. Heero bangs went back to the way they were before. A chuckle almost made his way to his lips at how stubborn they were. A sob almost escaped instead. Heero was so pale…

A rumbling sound made his jerk his hand away on instinct, looking to see where the noise was coming from. At first his thoughts were of the plane possibly caving in from all the pressure and stress it had withstood—after all, it **_was_** OZ material, which was scrap metal basically.

"What was that?" Quatre worriedly questioned, looking around to see where the noise was coming from. Wufei was on his feet, looking as alert as Duo was (though he had remained seated).

Trowa was calm as ever, though it was obvious he was trying to locate and put a name to the sound.

Wufei narrowed his eyes, "That sounds like…"

Trowa finished his sentence bluntly, "…OZ carrier planes."

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, the only sounds were of the wind beginning to pick up and the disappearing sounds of the Oz craft.

Cursing their luck, Duo wondered why—of all the missions and possible situations—of the few times they were Gundam-less and weaponless, now was the time. There was no way that they'd survive an attack from OZ…

Duo stood up from his spot and turned, walking towards the only exit on the plane. Then, draping a parachute that had opened in the landing when the drawstring caught on a handle, he peered outside only to see sand being whipped around. He shut his eyes before some managed to fly into his eyes and face.

Pulling away from the outside world, he closed the parachute sheet as best as he could manage with the wind that was picking up. He, with the help of Wufei who caught onto the idea, gathered as many piles as he could to pin the sheet tightly closed. It wouldn't do to die in a sea of sand like the cockpit probably was.

At the task was completed and carried out, Duo paused as he stared at the sheet. It held—not letting any sand into their safety. For a moment, a look of semi-relief flooding onto the braided teens features. He turned back, looking at the other three pilots who were coherent and conscious enough to worry. "Another storm is brewing."

Wufei nodded his head. He had figured as much when he had helped with the barrier. He took a seat and closed his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest once more and leaned back against the seat. Perhaps some meditation would get rid of some tension in his muscles?

Trowa nodded at the fact. He wondered what the chances were of having a sandstorm twice in less than six hours would be. He didn't delve into the idea though, not knowing much about the statistics for a sandstorm. "That is good." Indeed it was—with Oz on their tails, hopefully they would crash like they had or end up off course.

Quatre's response, unlike the other pilots, had been somewhat different. He went on the side of thanking instead of thinking strategically like how he usually thought. For the moment, "Thank Allah…" Quatre murmured under his breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment, as if in a thankful prayer. Quatre decided to give thanks to whatever God was watching over them at the moment.

"It's stop OZ, if only for a little while or until it brews over." Wufei commented, "Maybe with the storm they'll be knocked off course. The sand may even make it hard for their metal radar to work." He didn't hope like Quatre, he tried to think of the most logical things and situations. He wouldn't place his fate in hope. Hope was useless during war…

"Tch," Duo snorted as he crossed his arms across his slim chest. Leaning against the metal panel to a storage unit, he gruffly spoke in a almost blaming tone, "God lands us in this situation—gives us a sandstorm when about to be captured and keeps us from being caught by OZ." He laughed, almost bitterly or coldly, "What fun."

Quatre frowned. "Either way, it's hard to decide if this is bad or good." He looked down at Heero, "He needs medical attention." He left out the fact that he needed it—_badly. _"OZ may have a medical doctor that would be able to help him—"

"But the chances of them using that on us Gundam _scum _would be amazing." Duo muttered, looking the other way. A shadow seemed to fall over the self-proclaimed Shinigami.

"Duo," Trowa began, "Try to keep some faith." Trowa's eyes lingered on the cross Duo wore and, when Duo's eyes met the silent ones, he bit his lower lip and gave a curt and sharp nod of acknowledgement.

"After all," Duo commented after silence hung in the air for more than a few minutes, "We always do seem to be fighting loosing battles." _And we somehow make it through. _

Duo let his eyes wander to Heero. 'He's an example.' His violet-blue eyes softened at the calm and peaceful look on Heero's relaxed face. He had no idea how close they were to being caught (and probably executed) by OZ. 'He self-destructed and survived.'

The wind rocked the plane, piling more sand onto the top of the plane, wrapping the side tightly into a newly forming dune.

All the three pilots took seats, choosing to sit and ride out the storm than stand and stumble every so often by the shifting sand underneath and overtop of them.

'You have to pull through Heero, if not for me, then for all of our sakes…'

Wufei this time, who had his eyes closed during most of the duration, "Mobile suits won't be able to operate in this sandstorm unless their Gundams." Wufei almost cursed himself for leaving Nataku somewhere where he dubbed 'safe'. Perhaps it would have been better to bring Nataku. But then, if caught in this situation with an incomplete Gundam, OZ would get a hold of it and he would be useless…

"At least there's a benefit to this." Duo added, hoping to liven up the mood. He whipped out a deck of cards stashed in his pant pockets, "The OZ soldier's on this plane at least had some form of entertainment other than looking at their precious mobile suits."

The inevitable had been delayed. That 'cozy' OZ prison reserved for them would have to wait just a little bit longer.

TBC

Author's note: I hope that this chapter was enjoyable. Thank you to the many people who have reviewed. ArtGirl-Chan, I hope that this chapter was a good read. EquineAngel, thank you for the wonderful review. That review did manage to upset me by saying that I only write for reviews. XD

Art-Girl, I wanted this chappie to be a surprise for you so I'll send you the later chapters to be betaed:hugs: Hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed once more. I hope that you enjoyed this!

in Liebe, Red Tail


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's note: _**I'm back! .:hops out of bush:. Sorry for the long wait in a lot of my stories, and thanks to all the readers and reviewers while I was drifting around in different fandomsr&ringor just plain kicking back. Thanks go out to everyone who has waited for this! If there is a story you really want me to get around to, let me know so I can try and get around to it. To Say These Words should also be getting an update sometime soon.

**_Desert Storm_**

By: Lost-Remembrance (Red Tail)

For: ArtGirlChan150

**_Chapter Four_**:

Quatre's trained eyes looked over Heero's bare torso, eyes shimmering with worry as he assessed the damage. He saw the bruising and sighed heavily, "The best we can do is bind his chest. Hopefully, his ribs are just bruised and not broken…we might still have to worry about internal bleeding though," his hands graced over the discolored skin, gentle as could be even though Heero was unconscious.

Wufei listened, nodded his head and dug into the standard first aid kit and pulled out some materials. Handing them over to Quatre, Wufei then pulled out some butterfly bandages and antiseptic. "Trowa," the chestnut-haired teen turned to look at the Chinese upon hearing his name, "Let me fix you up."

Giving a short but curt nod, Trowa got up and settled himself down closer to his comrade. Wufei started cleaning the gash on Trowa's forehead, having smashed into the side of the cargo plan rather roughly.

"Duo," Quatre looked up, pausing from his work, and looked Duo over, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Duo stopped nibbling his lower lip, looking up, "Hm?"

Smiling sympathetically, Quatre repeated his question to the dazed and distracted teen.

"Ah, um…no, I got a few scrapes—" Quatre raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "—And such, but I'm okay." Duo raised his arms in defense, trying to make peace before Quatre went bandage-crazy with him, "Really, it's okay, Quat."

Quatre made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat before returning to patching up Heero. Every so often, Quatre's eyes would dart in his direction—discretely of course—as if making sure he wouldn't pass out at any given moment.

"Maxwell," Wufei snapped, looking up from where he was sitting, bandaging the rest of Trowa's major injuries, and earned himself Duo's attention. "Sit down before you collapse."

Duo huffed up, indignant. "Fei! Who are you—" Wufei turned bright red with anger at hearing the slaughtering of his name, once again.

"Duo," Trowa calmly interjected, breaking up the fight that was sure to ensue. "Your hands are shaking."

Duo frowned, pausing for a moment. His thoughts all seemed jumbled together in one hazy mess. He looked down, seeing his pale hands shaking. There was still some blood on his hand, probably from Heero (or was it from when he pressed his hand against his side to try and staunch the flow of blood?). He couldn't remember.

"Sit down right now, Maxwell, we already have enough to deal with." Duo took a deep breath, focusing on making the darkening objects not fade into the growing darkness.

"Duo!" Quatre sliced his finger on the scissors he was using the cut bandages in his shock as he saw his friend waver from side to side.

Trowa jerked his head to the side, reflexes moving him. He pushed himself from the sitting position he was in, managing to catch Duo just as he collapsed.

"Huhm…?" Duo shivered, and finally closed his eyes and succumbed to the darkness shrouding his vision.

Wufei walked over, thoroughly pissed that the braided teen didn't listen to him, but kept a cool head all the same. Trowa lifted Duo's wrist, timing the beats in each minute. "His pulse is weak but rapid." Wufei nodded to that and turned around, pulling out a blanket. Trowa lowered his wrist.

Trowa turned his gaze to Wufei, "Do you need help?" Wufei nodded. Bowing his head in understanding, Trowa got up and helped prop Duo's upper half against his body.

Working quickly with nimble hands, Wufei worked at Duo's buttons. He peeled off the shirt, frowning at the long and deep gash leaking blood on Duo's side. He leaned back, mumbling an "idiot" under his breath, and grabbed a towel soaked in disinfectant.

"There's a possibility that there could be some metal in there, or glass."

"Probably glass." Wufei looked up and caught Quatre's worried stare. He turned again, ignoring it. He reached into the handy medical box and pulled out some tweezers and a flashlight.

"Keep a good hold on him." Wufei didn't looked up to make sure that Trowa followed through with his instructions, already dousing the tweezers with alcohol. "This will probably be very painful." He mumbled, leaning in as he flicked the flashlight on.

He peered at the wound, trying to see if there was any unwanted material in the wound. He leaned in closer, and raised the tweezers to the wound as he caught a glimpse of a glass shard…

A loud noise screeched through the plane, making Wufei jerked back with a loud curse. What was left of the plane rocked, the wind howling quite fiercely outside.

"What was that?" Quatre questioned, also visibly shaken and nerves frayed from all that had occurred.

Trowa was the one who spoke, surprisingly, "The plane might be sinking." No one, except for Duo and Heero who were unconscious, would be stupid enough the miss the concerned look that overcame everyone's faces. If they were to survive this, they had to be at least able to reach the surface.

"The sand is very unstable." Wufei muttered, looking at the few streams of sand coming in through cracks along the metal surface. 'Only worry about the things that you can control.' Healing Maxwell was one of them.

He lowered himself once more, to the wound and decided to get this over as quickly as possible. The tweezers gripped the glass shard (luckily, the only one, Wufei noted), and pulled quickly. The better to get it done and over with.

Duo's eyes instantly opened and jerked, Trowa having to hold him down. This didn't go over well with Duo, who was unaware of his surroundings due to pain and blood loss. His hand instantly clamped down on Wufei's, making the Chinese man scowl.

The grip tightened, causing a shocked Wufei to drop the tweezers with a clatter. "Maxwell!" He jerked his hand out of the bone-crushing grip and narrowed his eyes at the red marks that would soon fade to bruises.

Trowa struggled holding down Duo, who was squirming around like a cornered animal, desperate for escape. Trowa grunted as Duo elbowed him in the abdomen.

Wufei brought up his good hand and slapped Duo across the face sharply, making him stop his struggling. Duo blinked, confused, "What's going on?" His voice was groggy and pain-laced.

Wufei dug through the medical kit and sighed with relief when he found a hypodermic needle and some morphine.

"'Fei?" He filled the needle with the painkiller and tapped the glass to get rid of any air bubbles, turning to face Duo once more with that task done.

Duo looked at the needle with glazed eyes, and he weakly protested as his arm was lifted. "I dun like needles…" His voice and movements were becoming weaker and weaker.

Glancing back down at the wound, Wufei looked back at him, "Compared to that, it won't hurt a bit." He brought the pucker down, injecting the clear fluid into Duo's bloodstream. The teen nodded off into a drug-induced sleep, free of pain.

"Let's get this patched up." Trowa nodded and lowered Duo's body to the ground and grabbed some needle and thread.

Stitching the wound back together was harder than it should have been; Duo had aggravated the wound by the twisting and turning that he did while trying to escape from Trowa's hold. None the less, the two pilots completed their task and wrapped the blanket around Duo, making sure to move him to a safe area that wouldn't leak sand all over him, or have spilled baggage and debris in it.

Quatre walked over to them, after settling Heero down near Duo with a blanket wrapped around him also. He smiled weakly, "I got him patched up as best as possible, but…"

"Our main priority right now is to get out of here." Wufei and Trowa both knew that they had to get Heero, as well as possibly Duo, to a hospital. However, with their current situation, that would be undoubtedly hard.

Trowa nodded to this and Quatre sat down near them, "We could try and send a radio transmission, but chances are that OZ may intercept that. They might be already trying to find our location." Quatre added, letting his strategic mind go through possibilities and outcomes for the situation they were in.

"Sally might still be in China, but I'm not sure. It'd be too hopeful to run into her or any of the other rebellion factions." Wufei thoughtfully commented.

Quatre smiled weakly, nodding his head, "At least none of us have our Gundams. OZ won't be able to find them."

"If we had our Gundams, we wouldn't be stuck here." Trowa pointed out solemnly. Quatre sighed and leaned his head back against the wall.

"We have enough food and supplies to last us for a week, at most, if we ration what we eat and drink. It's going to be hot, too, so we'll have to drink a lot of water to keep hydrated." Quatre closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

"Maybe it would be better if OZ were to find us…" Everyone looked at Wufei. "We would be in an area that would might know. If we could escape, then we would be able to get out of this mess."

"Counting on that we could escape," Quatre stared at him, "And that we don't be tortured."

Wufei grunted, nodding to that. It was a bad idea anyway.

Trowa spoke up, his calm voice cutting through the silence, "We're safe as long as the storm is still going. OZ wouldn't try to locate a downed cargo plane in the middle of a sandstorm, terrorists or not."

The other two nodded in agreement to that assumption. Outside, the winds slowly died, stopping the wailing howls.

**_TBC_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Noin looked up, her dark eyes staring at the tall form of Zechs Marquise. Her eyes continued to stare at the man, trying to memorize every feature that she could that wasn't hidden behind his white mask before he turned to meet her gaze. She was no fool. Her intuition told her he knew she was staring at him. He was no fool either. Or, at least not romantically blind to notice her affections towards him.

"Noin?" His deep voice raised her from her thoughts, making her remember the situation that the two of them were placed in. "Are you all right?"

She smiled softly at him, nodding. "I'm all right, Zechs." Placing a hand on the glass leading outside into the barren and desert landscape, she closed her eyes. "The winds are dying down."

Marquise nodded, turning away from her slightly. "We should prepare the mobile suits and set off before another sandstorm hits." He started to walk away.

"It'll be dangerous." He stopped at her words. She didn't turn around to meet his face, instead choosing to keep his head bowed. "What do you think will happen if the pilots really are out there?"

Zechs made no move to respond to her question. As if sighing, he broke the silence after a few minutes. "Noin," he began, "It is a small craft. It could just be some other band of rebels. The carrier is too old and small to transport any Gundam."

"I know," Noin turned to look at him, "I just have this bad feeling."

Zehcs frowned. "Noin…"

"Let's just go, Zechs." Noin placed her ceremonial sword next to Zechs' on the nearby table. She led the way, Zechs following closely behind her as they headed to the hangar to prepare their mobile suits and round up a few lesser soldiers to accompany them should they need any assistance.

"Good luck!" The mechanic below on the ground said, waving at them as they closed the hatches to their suits. Noin smiled and gave a small salute to him in thanks as she fired up her suit. The hatch opened, allowing the arid desert air in. Sand still shifted in the slight breeze, moving over the dunes that rolled across the land.

Zechs' voice flowed over the intercom like soothing water, "Ready Noin?"

"Of course, Zechs." He knew there was so much more meaning behind those words than a response to his question. He smiled, knowing that no matter where he was, Noin would probably be the supporting hand for him to lean on.

Their suits took off; the other OZ soldiers followed suit.

xxx

Behind her goggles, Noin's dark eyes gazed back and forth across the horizon to search for life. She knew it would be easier if her thermal readings would work out here, but sadly the sand absorbed the heat and kept it stored in the ground, making everything have a reading. She suppressed a yawn, knowing it was very unprofessional of her to do so.

"Zechs, are you sure that these are the coordinates for the downed plane?" Noin questioned, "Those people at the information center may have been…"

"Captain Noin! Colonel Zechs! We think we've found something!" A voice called from over the intercom. Noin directed her eyes over to the suit that called out to them. The green Leo had it's weapon raised in case of attack was a larger sand dune, the bright sun glinting off of some of the dull and scraped metal that made up the cargo plane.

"Zechs," Noin relayed over the radio, pulling up a video image of Zechs, "You and I should investigate this. At least two should be left in their mobile suits, just in case."

Zechs nodded, agreeing with the captain. Zechs flicked on his radio, opening his airwaves to the other OZ soldiers. "Teller and Retser will remain in their suits to ensure that the situation will remain in our control if anything happens. If any possible enemies try to pilot any of our suits, shoot them down before they can shoot you down."

"Ready?" Noin questioned. Zechs screen disappeared with a 'pip' and Noin smiled to herself. 'Oh, Zechs…' Kneeling her suit down, she hoped that it would help to ensure it's stability in the shifting sands. "Here we go." She whispered to herself, releasing her harness. She opened the hatch to her suit and exited the cockpit, standing on the threshold. She took a bold leap off the platform and landed on the earth, sand sinking beneath her weight from the jump.

A gloved hand was extended to her, making her blink. She looked up, the sun creating a halo around Zechs' white blonde hair and reflecting off of his mask. Her heart fluttered, her body moving on manual as she took his hand, pulling herself up out of her squatted position.

As they walked through the heat of the desert, Noin reached into her holster and pulled out her gun. She made sure that there was a live round in the chamber, ready to subdue any threat to herself or Zechs. Her eyes shifted to the man momentarily, seeing her already was toting his gun in a similar fashion, held in one hand with a loose but defensive grip by his side.

"Cutler, Remmer!" Noin called, the two pilots only just getting out of their suits. They too fell to the ground from their suits, pulling themselves up towards the two superiors. Sweat already made a jagged course down the sides of their face. Just by their body language, Noin could tell they would rather be back at the air-conditioned base.

As the two of them made their way over, Noin narrowed her eyes at them. "You are a part of OZ, are you not?" The men stiffened, falling into the typical position for a soldier when a commander or superior officer addressed someone. They stiffly nodded. "Then act like one! Removed your guns from your holster."

Though Noin could not tell with the mask covering his face, she felt that Zechs eyes drifted in her direction briefly. "Do not shoot unless we give the order to." He added, his voice firm and commanding.

"Yes, sir! M'am!" They saluted and pulled out their guns as they followed Zechs and Noin, approaching the cargo plane with caution. Sand shifted, falling off the metal as they walked around, searching if there was a way into the plane without having to make one. Luckily, they found a tear near the back of the plane.

Noin paused as she looked at the plane. It had many marks on it. However, one near the cockpit that was drenched with sand looked as if a propeller had sawed through the metal. She frowned at the thought. Zechs seemed to have noticed her pause in entering the plane. He turned silently to face her, gesturing with his hands for her to follow and remain silent.

Nodding her consent, she followed after him, ducking on numerous occasions to avoid being hit in the head by the hanging objects attached to the ceiling of the plane. She could tell that Cutler and Remmer were behind her, seeing as they made more noise than her or Zechs. Grated, it sounded as if they were rats, but that noise could get them killed anywhere else. She made a mental note that she needed to have a talk with the commander in charge of their training.

Zechs silhouette from the sun's rays that managed to flow in through the cracks in the metal and the broken windowpanes reached her eyes. She saw he wasn't moving and, as her body stopped moving and stiffened a little ways behind him, she noted that he had his gun pointed and armed.

She brought up her arm too, trigger finger in position and ready to fire at any given notice. She let her eyes adjust to the dimmed lighting inside the plane. There were two things that she noticed; one was that there were five individuals on the ground and two was that they were all teenagers. The Gundam pilots.

Cutler and Remmer were behind her, guns also armed. They caught sight of the pilots also, and their whole demeanor changed as they acted more like the soldiers they were than before.

The blonde haired one stared at them wearily. Trowa, the one who she had brought with Heero to Siberia, stared at her calmly. She knew that he had recognized Zechs and also Noin. There was another one sitting upright, his charcoal eyes blazing with anger and pride, narrowed at the sight of them. However, he made no move to attack them. On the floor, she saw two pilots. One that she recognized was Heero, and the other one had a long braid and was dressed in black. His shirt had been opened; showing the stark white bandaged that signified his status. Already, there was a tint of red to the wrappings. Both Heero and the other pilot were still on the floor, paler than normal.

"Cutler, Remmer, you keep the guns trained on the pilots, but do not fire." Zechs commanded, clicking the safety of his gun on as he put it into his holster and secured it. Noin followed his lead, holstering her gun as well.

"Pilots," Noin began, "Will you come willingly or do we have to use force?"

The blonde one straightened and looked her in the eyes fiercely. "Will you agree to the terms that we are given medical attention for our capture?"

The lackies behind her opened their mouths to protest, but she spoke before them calmly saying, "Yes." The blonde looked relieved at her word of agreement. He then nodded his head in agreement as well.

"Remmer, Cutler! Go and tell the other soldiers to radio to base. Give our coordinates and tell them to send out a truck." The two of them hesitated. They were the only ones holding weapons that were drawn. "Now!" Noin snapped.

They both scurried off to do Noin's orders.

Once they were gone, Noin looked back at the pilots. She bent down next to the braided pilot. She looked at his bandages and then looked up to the Chinese pilot that had shuffled close to his unconscious companion. She met his stare with one of his own. She frowned slightly, looking at his face. He looked familiar.

Her eyes widened when she realized who she was looking at; the same face of the boy that had blown up the Lake Victoria base—05's pilot! "You!" She shouted, the fire of the anger she still felt for her dead men surfacing. It soon died however; she knew that she couldn't blame him forever. He followed orders, just as she when dealing with the Alliance. "You're the one who blew up the Lake Victoria base."

The pilot grunted, the only sound he made otherwise.

Zechs himself was kneeled down near Heero, who was close to the blonde pilot. "What happened?" He questioned, eyes also drifting over to the other unconscious body lying on the ground.

"A sandstorm." The blonde quietly, and shortly, replied. Noin noticed that his eyes took note of every movement Zechs and her made. The silent one sitting beside the blonde was doing the same.

The roar of engines outside made the occupants of the plane look up. Zechs looked at the three conscious pilots, "I assume you'll be able to walk without assistance?" They nodded. "Noin and I can take care of these two." He gestured down to the still Heero and Duo.

Noin nodded. She could tell the other pilots were wary of letting their enemies carry their comrades, yet they made no moves to stop them. They were, after all, the captors. Noin shifted Duo in her arms. She was glad that all those years in the exercise and training room paid off. Never the less, she couldn't ignore the fact that the pilot in her arms didn't weigh a lot. Zechs bent down and did the same, trying to be gentle as possible for his injured opponent.

At the movement, Heero's eyes snapped open, cloudy with confusion. Heero noted that whoever was carrying him was most certainly not another pilot. His body instantly reacted and jerked away, out of the arms holding him up.

Zechs, surprised by the action, let Heero fall from his arms in shock. The brunette landed on his side heavily, unable to catch himself. He had managed to rip the gun from the Lightning Count's holster on the painful fall down. Despite the pain, his body went on autopilot.

"Heero!" Quatre cried, the name slipping out of his lips unintentionally. Usually, they called themselves by their numeric names in case of spies or, as in this situation, if they were captured. The less information their enemies knew about them the better. Unlike Trowa, Quatre did not know that the two soldiers of OZ knew Heero's name.

Heero rolled and stood on shaky feet, his dark blue eyes cold as ice. The gun's safety was clicked off in less than a second and directed at Zechs. The blonde was still, facing Heero. He could already tell that the brunette was injured heavily. His body was shaking from exertion and he was panting.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted to the startled Noin, who stood froze in place. His eyes hardened at the sight of her. "Let Duo go." He ground out. Noin blinked, wondering how the injured pilot could still remain so strong and fearsome. Movement from the opening of the plane drew her eyes away from the cold eyes of 01.

"Commander Noin!" Remmer cried, his own gun drawn and ready. His finger pulled the trigger, and the bullet exploded from the muzzle of the gun. Heero lurched forward, the bullet piercing into his side. Wufei charged forward, catching Heero as he fell down, unconscious before he hit the ground. The gun fell to the floor with a clatter from limp fingers.

"Heero!" Quatre shoved his way from behind Noin, rushing towards his friend. Noin was momentarily frozen in place with all that had occurred in less than ten minutes. "Remmer!" She shouted, pulling out of her shock to lock eyes with the OZ soldier. "Go back out there right now!" Her body trembled with barely contained rage.

Remmer gulped and nodded hesitantly, pulling back as he clumsily put the gun back in his holster. He gave a hasty salute and left. Sweat dripped down from his face, though this time not because of the weather. He was definitely going to suffer from that move.

Blood slid down Wufei's arm as he tried to get Heero into a more comfortable position. Trowa walked over towards Noin and pulled Duo from her. He shuffled the limp body in his hands to get the braided teen into a position that ensured when he awoke that he wouldn't be in pain.

"He needs medical attention. Now." Wufei stated as he surveyed the damage done. Quatre was by his side trying to staunch the flow of the blood seeping from the wound. Zechs nodded, beckoning the pilots to follow. Noin pulled up the rear. She removed her gun from the holster to make sure that the other soldier's wouldn't pull a similar stunt such as what Remmer committed. After all, Noin knew what the typical reaction would be if they saw five terrorists walking without being held at gunpoint.

"When we get back to the base, we shall ensure that you get proper medical attention. Noin will stay and make sure that you are properly treated." Zechs said as he led the way towards the truck. It was had a canvas top to it, helping the block out the bright and hot sun.

"Zechs, what are you going to be doing?" Noin couldn't help but question.

He tilted his head towards her, signaling that he had glanced at her from up front. "I have a call that I have to make to Colonel Treize."

**_TBC_**


End file.
